Sea side affair
by torinotoni
Summary: Three short stories about Reaver and Sparrow. A little Garth x Sparrow as well. Rated just in case. Reaver's POV


A first of three short stories for this series. This goes to all of those people that wanted Sparrow to be the dominate one in the realtionship.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fable or its characters.

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The seagulls cried out as they soared over the sea, some perched upon the shabby houses as they looked hungrily down towards the occupants of Bloodstone. Most now eating what little they could scrounge up for dinner, while others began closing up their shops. Reaver, the king of pirates, and the self proclaimed mayor of town stood at the bottom of a cobblestone hill, the dying sunlight casting a long shadow from his feet as he stared up the hill in aggravation. In his hands a variety of shopping bags, worse yet the sweat upon his brow was dripping down his nose, his dark eyes transfixed on his captor a sly grin on her face.

"Come now Reaver, it's only a little way up the street," she chimed, her voice carrying across the decaying town. Her pink lips curved upwards into a Cheshire cat smile as she turned, her boots clutching her bare calves.

"I hate woman," Reaver muttered, his dark eyebrows pinching together in irritation as he dragged himself up the cobblestone, step by step, the heavy load seeming heavy in his manicured hands.

"If I had kept my eyes open during that game," he whispered, a darkness beginning to loom under his eyes, his body straining under the newly purchased dresses and gowns, all paid by him of course, not by choice though. Growling he continued his battle to get up the hill Sparrow's footsteps echoing off of the dark houses all sinking in with in themselves.

"Hurry up old man, if you don't hurry you'll never get your reward. Remember you have to get this all to the house before the sun sets," Sparrow's voice sang as he glared up towards the girl. Her dark hair flowing in the wind, clean from a day at the saloon, more than ten gold coins, her soft skin, another five, her manicured nails, more money down the drain.

What he was holding in his hand was more than one thousand gold put together, and that wasn't even a fraction of the load she had gotten today from her shopping excursion. Another grunt escaped Reaver's throat as he continued the journey to drop off the last of the load, his hands had to many blood blisters, all of them screaming in pain to match the blood curdling call of the sea gulls at sea, shaking his head he found himself nearing the top of the hill. His feet aching in his boots, his knees trembling from all of the weight carried today, his torso burning from all of the heavy boxes, worse yet his arms felt like rubber, and the migraine he was experiencing was one that could kill a God, maybe even two.

Sighing he found his humble abode nearing, his salvation, stepping onto the creaky wooden stairs, he glanced down his lips pressing tightly together as he heaved the rest of the junk into his home, collapsing upon the floor, he could hear her laughter faintly echoing off of the pristine white walls. Looking up from the wooden floor, he could catch only a glimpse at her boots, worn from her journey so many moons ago, he let his head fall back down to the ground.

"I have completed your task you evil witch, release me now," he hissed, he heard her footfalls nearing, the faint scent of sea salt and mint wafted to his nose as he felt her fingers brushing over his neck.

"Reaver, there's one last thing before I set you free," she said, he could feel her breath tickling his cheek, smiling she poked at his head.

"Now, let me see your face," she informed him, Reaver groaned, his muscles aching for what ever task she was going to have him perform for her next.

Tipping his head up, his eyes met her's the dark brown focused on him, for the first time today, something soft behind that treacherous stare. Her fingers touched his chin, holding him in place; he couldn't help but notice now her lips, what perfect shade of red they were, and only five pieces of gold at the salon. Perhaps it was worth it, she smiled faintly, leaning in her eyes closing, the long lashes curling, and the soft ruby lips pressed against his chapped lips. The scent of mint and sea salt overwhelming him as his eyes widened his mind nearly numb.

The soft release of her lips from him, as her dark eyes focused on him, a soft smirk on her lips.

"Our deal is complete," she whispered, Reaver's mind blank as he let his lips part for a moment.

'Perhaps… not all women are bad.' he thought faintly a soft smirk over his lips as the sun diminished behind the sea.


End file.
